


Scream

by thursdayknight



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Curses, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Sad, banshee jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayknight/pseuds/thursdayknight
Summary: Jaskier can't help it. He can't ignore it anymore, can't hold it in, can't avoid it. He screams.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 221





	Scream

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is a little scene for a fic I could never really figure out and then decided to post anyway.

"It was for you," Geralt groans, pain seeping through the cracks in his words Jaskier knows Geralt will never admit exist.

"What? What was? _What for?"_ Jaskier's voice comes out pitchy, off-key and breathless in a way he hates as he presses his hands to Geralt's chest.

Fat lot of good being _magical_ is now. There's nothing he can do about _this._

"The curse." There's blood on Geralt's lips now, too. "It was to protect you."

"Why?" Jaskier practically screams, pressing his hands to the big, gaping, sucking wound in Geralt's chest so hard he hisses. Not that it does either of them any good, Geralt's blood keeps slipping out past and between his fingers and Geralt groans in a way that Jaskier thinks might mean, "Because I love you, you idiot," in that special language Geralt has invented out of grunts and groans and particularly well placed looks. The language that's always driven him a little mad, mad because he needs Geralt to say it, to say the words— _I love you._

But instead of that, Geralt's eyes slip shut on this big, rattling exhale as underneath Jaskier's hands Geralt stops moving, stops _breathing_ and Jaskier is about half a second away from just opening his mouth and wailing when there's suddenly the sharp crack of a portal opening quickly followed by Yennefer saying, "Can't leave you two alone for five minutes, can I?" 

And Jaskier turns to her, intending to spit venom, intending to throw acid and to howl viciously, but instead what comes tumbling out of his mouth is a squeaky, "Help him! Please!" that sounds like it's barely just holding back a floodgate of tears, because suddenly, it is.

Yennefer rolls her eyes dramatically as she closes the distance between them and kneels on Geralt's other side. Quickly she assesses the damage before putting her hands above Jaskier's and barking, "Move your hands. Now," as sharply and concisely as Jaskier's always wished he was capable of being, always wished and never once managed to pull off. 

But he does as asked, he moves his hands and sinks back and away, watches Yennnefer's magic work it's well, _magic_ for a grand total of two entire seconds before he's overcome with the unearthly need to scream, to howl and it's a need he manages to hold off, at first, but then—

But then—

But. Then. 

It tears out of him, tears through him in the worst, most vicious way, tears through him like a cannonball not through the bow of some great ship, but through his actual blood and flesh and bone, absolutely decimating everything it touches. 

He screams, he howls, he _roars_ and the sound he makes isn't human. It's inhuman. It's _monstrous_. Ciri was right, he isn't human, he's—

He's—

"Ah, fuck," Yennefer curses and Jaskier manages to look down, to open his eyes—he hadn't even noticed he'd closed them—and he sees her sink back on her knees, sees her looking a certain type of way he isn't sure he's ever seen her look before, sees her look defeated. Sees…

He looks down at Geralt and sees he still isn't breathing, sees he looks less and less alive and Jaskier howls, but this time the sound is a human one, one born of grief and agony as Yennefer says, "I knew it." 

And suddenly Jaskier feels himself fill with that rage he's always been looking for. 

"Knew what?" he bites out, chewing through the words until they're absolutely shredded. 

"You're a banshee," Yennefer says, leaving Jaskier to think the word, to let it slip through his fingers and glide under his skin. It fits. 

Too well.

"But wait..." Jaskier says, his eyes once again landing on the deathly stillness of Geralt's body. 

_Banshees scream when someone's died, don't they?_

He can't manage to say the words out loud, can't manage to reach out and touch Geralt, either. Can't handle knowing for sure, so he just sits there, watching, silent and feeling like his own heart might just stop if Geralt's has. 

Yennefer, of course, tells him regardless of his readiness to hear the information. "He's not dead," she says. "I couldn't heal him, the curse he's under got in the way, but I did manage to suspend him."

"What?" 

"It's like he's asleep," Yennefer says. Without waiting or asking for permission, she grabs Jaskier's hand and drags it up to Geralt's neck and leaves it there and at first, Jaskier feels nothing, at first, he feels his heart start to shatter little by little like a crack spreading in a pane of glass, feels the tears overwhelm him and spill over, because he feels nothing, nothing but cold, lifeless skin, feels nothing, nothing, _nothing,_ but then—

Oh, but _then._

Then there's a twitch, a movement, a _beat_ and he waits, he _waits_ with baited breath and tears free flowing in a mad dash to his chin and there's another beat. And another. And another. Slower than even Geralt's usual heartbeat, so slow and so subtle it's easy to miss, but it's there. 

It's _there_ and Geralt's _alive._

"Oh, thank god," he breathes. He lifts his tear-stained and heavy eyes to Yennefer. "Thank _you."_

Yennefer bristles under the praise and uses it as a reason to get to her feet. 

"Yeah, well, now we have to get him out of here," she says, looking down at Jaskier in a way that requires and _uses_ no subtly to get across the point that she expects him to be the one to pick up Geralt's sleeping (and heavy) body. 

She waves her hands in that way she does and opens a portal, still looking at him, still _expecting_ so he does his best and half carries, half drags Geralt through the portal.


End file.
